Automatic
by random-k
Summary: Where war is life, and killing is as easy as breathing


Automatic

_I own nothing but my own ideas_

* * *

She marches on to war.

The controls of the Magitek armor were as natural as walking to her. They should be. She had used them as long as she had been walking. She had little memories. She couldn't remember the experiments, labs, or needles from her early years. She didn't have remember any childhood memories. She simply had none. Her near constant companion, the Slave Crown, ensured that.

She'd grown up a war machine, just as obedient and emotionless as the Magitec armor she wielded. She had never been phased by battlefields, for the battlefield was her world. The dead bodies, screams of survivors, explosives, and death didn't faze her. How could they, it was what she lived for. Her life.

No one touched her. Growing up physical contact was forbidden. She was a weapon. Kefka's weapon. The damage he would inflict on someone willing to even consider it was to be feared. Not to mention what the weapon would do to you. Klefa's weapon was to be kept in the best health, at all times.

The only conversation that had any variety from orders came from one very silly Moogle.

"What's your name, Kupo?" the moogle had asked.

The machine stared. Names were not something that came up often. What was it? It was an easy thing to forget. You didn't need a name to receive orders. It had started with a T… Tina? No not right "Terra. Weapon Terra" for how she tore through armies.

"Weapon, Kupo?" the moogle asked skeptically "You appear to be a human girl to me"

That was the sort of question that required no verbal response. Instead the weapon prepared a fire attack.

"-But lets not quibble about opinions ,Kupo. Mine doesn't matter anyway, in the end" The Moogle blurted out nervously.

Her point made, the weapon released the spell into the air , but ultimately hit no one. The room was deserted. "No" she droned " The only thing that maters is completing the mission."

"Your not scared, Kupo?" the Moogle asked. "Not scared of the blood? The killing and bodies? The screaming and the hateful survivors… none of that bothers you ,kupo?"

"Why should it bother me?" The machine asked in a bored tone "They are unimportant to the mission. It is useless for the survivors to cry over the pawns in the first place. They can be crushed or ignored, but the mission is the priority."

"They might not now, but someday I hope you wake up and see how wrong this is ,Kupo?"

"…" She could have answered in short soldier talk, perhaps 'Doubt it' would have worked, but The Machine had no real reason to engage in conversation anyway. She usually blew them off, if they tried. There was nothing to be learned from this conversation, and she was under no orders to complete it.

"Here is your meal then. It even has Raspberries." He then popped one into the preteen machines mouth and flew off. The Weapon stared. She should have probably spit the berry out, it might have been poisonous. Then again, crushing the berry in her mouth, sweet and sour juice filling it, its not like she couldn't be rid of the toxin easily.

That was the last memory, and only interesting one. The rest involved a cell.

Shortly after that incident, a newly modified Slave crown had been fixed of its flaws and was always on her head. It practically grew with her.

She was sent back into battle. Her kill count rose. Death and screaming meant nothing to her, it was the lifeblood she was raised on. Killing was nothing, they were just pawns, obstacles. The fear of 'Terra Weapon' rose, the people hated her. It was simply uninteresting.

One day the crown would be taken off, and she would mumble out Tina, a name that didn't feel right, and vaguely recall the taste of Raspberries when she saw Moogles. She couldn't ever recall the reason.

Latter she would remember the name Terra, and her head would begin a war. Terra was the Esper, Tina was the human. She never figured out which one was the monster.

Right now she walks across the battlefield, where killing is as easy as breathing.

Automatic.

* * *

_She, The Machine, and The Weapon are all Terra. Terra is used to being ordered, and probably wouldn't think of herself as her. This is probably a bit AU but tell me what you think in a review readers who show up on the traffic graph. : )_

_Picture by im-a-tumor on deviant art. check it out_


End file.
